


Systematic Theology

by historymiss



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historymiss/pseuds/historymiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three things Matt Murdock knows about God</p>
            </blockquote>





	Systematic Theology

**_1\. God is a father_ **

He’s bleeding so much that the air is copper in his mouth: it’s all he can smell, all he can taste. He blunders through a world filled with his own life leeching out, the pain hitting him like a hammer at every step. The floor rises up to meet him- or is it the wall? Whatever it is, it’s the only solid thing in a world that’s veering crazily, sliding from side to side under his feet. 

_Get up._

Something hits him again, but it doesn’t matter anymore because it’s just one more ache to add to the rest of them, one more tug and tear when he moves, one more place where his skin is sticky with blood, and he’s a kid again screaming that the world is too fast, too loud, too much plugged directly in his brain.

_Get up._

It doesn’t matter because now he knows where the son of a bitch is, and if he knows that, he’s learned enough to make him pay for that last hit. That’s what the world is. What it was created to be. An object lesson in taking your hits, and then giving them back twice as hard.

Matt gets up.

**_2\. God is kind_ **

Foggy doesn’t seem to care so much about how Matt ‘sees’ him, and that suits Matt fine, because he’s not sure he could describe it if he was asked. There aren’t really words for it: the certain change in air pressure that tells Matt Foggy’s a little shorter than him and kinda heavier (but in a good way- how can air pressure change in a good way? It just does), the smell of his shampoo (that weird caffeine stuff that’s supposed to promote hair growth, or at least it is this week), the polyester-and-cotton of his suit and the dyes on his quirky patterned tie and whatever it is that he was eating for breakfast. 

How do you articulate that, plus all the other stuff? Matt’s known Foggy long enough that he can recognise the sound of the guy’s breathing, and he  _knows_  that that’s creepy as hell. 

What Matt says, in the end, is this: that standing next to Foggy is exactly the place he’s supposed to be. 

“It makes me look better.”

Foggy’s voice gets that tilt that lets Matt know he’s smiling. “Ass. I like to think we drag each other down equally.”

**_3\. God is just_ **

Matt doesn’t have a Bible- getting one in Braille would mean something like sixteen volumes, which is kind of a lot to take to church. Instead, he remembers: Sunday School used to give him memory verses, and it’s a habit that stood him in good stead when he was studying. He knows God’s view on justice. He knows that it doesn’t so much align with his, not any more. 

He doesn’t know when he started being angry. He just knows that it colours everything he does. Every muscle is wound tight, every laugh or smile cut off just a little too soon. Matt broadcasts his anger so loudly it’s a wonder nobody else seems to realise it. 

Taking justice into his own hands seemed to be the logical extension. It’s not so big a leap, these days, when the sky is filled with heroes. Matt knows it’s not exactly Christian. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.

Matt is angry, but he’s afraid, too. He’s afraid that if he left justice to God, he wouldn’t like the result. And what would that say about him?


End file.
